


Silent Seduction and Blinding Bliss

by DovaBunny



Series: Geraskier Fics [2]
Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, Wiedźmin | The Witcher Series - Andrzej Sapkowski
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Denial isn't just a river in Egypt Geralt ffs, Disability, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Apologizes, Insecure Jaskier | Dandelion, Jaskier basically moves in so this is basically canon okay, Jaskier | Dandelion Has Feelings, Kinda, M/M, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 19:07:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24231829
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DovaBunny/pseuds/DovaBunny
Summary: Jaskier has a new neighbour. A hot one. Scorching really. I'm just saying, the man could flex and melt polar ice caps.But his majesty the beautiful had one flaw... two actually.1 - he didnt acknowledge Jaskier's charming existence2 - he has beEN BLASTING HIS RADIO ON TOP VOLUME FOR TWO DAYSor: that fic with a deaf Geralt...or is he?
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Geraskier Fics [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1772185
Comments: 88
Kudos: 1069
Collections: The Witcher Alternate Universes





	1. Growls, Grunts, and Guitars

**Author's Note:**

> So this is a lil something I wrote on my phone and it kinda blew up on Tumblr. 
> 
> Yall sure are thorsty. 
> 
> My first work in the Witcher fandom so comes with a 'jikes' warning.

Sure Jaskier’s neighbour might be so beautiful it’s illegal in like 14 countries with a face that would make Mother Theresa cry but this was TOO MUCH!

He stomped over to the apartment across his and banged on the door, but the sound was drowned out by the blasting music on the other side.

Terrible. Music. To add insult to injury.

Gritting his teeth he tried the door knob and found it unlocked so he burst in all fury and the rage born of 48 hours without sleep.

Before he could take a step a large German Shepherd was up and growling with murderous intent, but before Jaskier could see his terribly embarrassingly uneventful life flash before his eyes a strong hand gripped the hound’s collar.

Eerie glowing amber eyes glared at him in silence.

“Listen-” Jaskier started but realised his voice was still drowned out. Spotting the offending stero he marched over and plugged it out instead of turning it off. “Listen bud, I don’t mean to insult your taste in music…okay I am, a little, seriously Valdo!? I could barf into a tin bucket and it would be better music! Where was I…oh yeah! This is just TOO LOUD! I’ve been forgoing sleep two days and…why are you glaring like that? And why aren’t you saying anything?”

The man and his dog were equally feral in their silence as they stared him down. In confusion Jaskier allowed himself a little glance around and…oh…

There were sticky notes all over. No TV. The intercom was ripped off. On the fridge was a photo of a blonde girl and an elven boy doing the sign for love.

He was deaf.

Jaskier opened his mouth then thought better. He lifted his hands and thanked Jospeh, Mary, and Moses his parents insisted in language classes, even though he hasn’t signed in years.

Signing “sorry. Music very loud.”

The man raised an eyebrow. Something almost like amusement in his eyes.

Sweet baby Beyonce but the man was beautiful. He fidgets a bit but the man doesn’t chase him off and the dog seems to have settled.

Jaskier takes it as an invitation to stay.

Geralt proves to be the best friend he’s ever had. Sure he mostly responds with grunts and only the occasional amused smirk and sign, but he hasn’t tossed Jaskier out yet when he comes over with his guitar and notebook. He argues that the noise obviously wont bother the man and his couch (and food) was MUCH nicer than his own.

So he spends a lot of time on Geralt’s couch writing, singing, or chatting into the silence. As weeks turn into months he starts to feel more at home there than his own apartment. Geralt no longer grumbles when he throws a blanket over a (pretending to be) sleeping Jaskier and leaves his door unlocked when he is in and not…out somewhere. He still wont tell Jaskier what he does.

Geralt smiles at him more and he could’ve sworn he once saw the man tapping his fingers along with his song. But deaf or blind people’s other senses of often heightened so the man probably feels the vibrations of his guitar.

He songs slowly turn into ballads then into love songs. Sometimes he would just sing about Geralt and his eyes and his smile. Relieved the man couldn’t hear him sing about how he had fallen in love with a stranger that would never hear him say he loves him.

The pining hurts but everytime he spends a night at the bar with friends he is miserable and thinks of how he would rather be on Geralt’s couch smiling at the man fondly rolling his eyes.

Jaskier barely drops his bag off in his cold apartment before he opens Geralt’s with a ‘Honey I’m home!’ when he stops short.

A woman. Dangerously beautiful with ebony hair and deep violent eyes lifts a perfect eyebrow at him.

“Oh, err..” he says awkwardly. Geralt had never had guests over before. The thought that this might be a girlfriend burns sharply in his chest. “Is Geralt here?”

“You must be Jaskier,” she says with a ominous grin. “Oh Geralt!” she calls towards the bedroom.

Jaskier is about to scoff at her that Geralt can’t hear her when-

“Yen,” a deep growling voice responds and the man steps into the room eyes down as he buttons an illegally form fitting black shirt. “Would it kill you to wait in the car instead of yelling?” he stops short when he looks up to see Jaskier.

Guitar hanging in a limp grip, wet eyes wide and horrified, shining with betrayal and hurt. Mouth open but so characteristically silent its uncomfortable.

“Jaskier,” he starts but he is met with a slamming door, followed by a muffled other door opening and slamming with the sound of a lock turning.

_ Fuck _ .


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Imma level with you dudes. I wanted the entire part 2 to be apologetic shower sex. 
> 
> But I had some lovelies on Tumblr who saved me! Particular thanks to my beta and writing husband [dandelion_writes (Ao3)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelion_writes/pseuds/dandelion_writes) for coming to my rescue!

_ “Jaskier.”  _

The sound of his name on Geralt’s lips had been his favourite fantasy but was now his most painful memory. Yes, Jaskier was a man of drama and exaggeration was his way (earlier that morning he ordered coffee by throwing himself on the counter proclaiming: “mister barista - my love - breathe life into my husk of a body and bring hope to my darkest hour! Baptise me in your caffeinated goodness and bury me in sugary sweetness!” The barista had sighed and asked if he wanted a medium or a large). But… this was different. 

Fingers danced absent-mindedly over the grand piano’s ivory keys, his eyes unseeing and his lips sealed until the storm inside him subsided. It shifted from raging anger, suffocating pain, and numbing betrayal. 

Not only had Geralt - who he had come to think of as his best friend over the last 8 months - lied to him about not being deaf, he humiliated him. The countless hours signing, taking online courses to get better, thinking maybe Geralt would be proud and respond more, were a joke. Geralt had heard every love song, every harmony woven about how Geralt held his heart in his gentle strong hands, heard every word Jaskier that spoken with his back turned, confessing his deepest fears and insecurities and again… how deeply he cared and wished Geralt would let him in. 

But not just that… Geralt had someone. He knew how Jaskier felt and let him embarrass himself and didn’t tell him that he had a beauty who would make Aphrodite quiver in jealousy. A sinfully beautiful viper who seemed to know exactly who he is and how pitiful he was. 

So, the organisers of this fancy event who hired him would just have to deal. Jaskier was having a crisis. It was only three hours after the most brutal moment of his life but he couldn’t afford to turn down the money. 

But right on cue one of the organisers, a fierce woman called Tissaia, glared at him and pointed in no uncertain terms to the microphone. So he gave what he hoped was a cocky grin but probably looked more constipated than anything else. 

No escaping him now. ‘The show must go on’ and all that.  _ Freddie give me strength!  _

He cleared his throat and swung the mic over. The first phrase sung before the notes followed and a hush fell for a moment as appreciative eyes turned to him. 

_ “Somebody said you got a new friend…  _

_ Does she love you better than I can..?”  _

Fuck. He cursed his tiny chaotic lizard brain to have gone right for this song. He pondered for a second if he could fake a heart attack. Even a real one would do, really. 

To settle his racing heart he tried to think of his happy place… but then Geralt’s fond smiles and eye-rolls came to mind…The way he would always smack Jaskier behind the head before handing him a snack. How pleasantly shocked he had looked the first time his giant pooch curled up on him like a damn lapdog to settle in for a nap. 

He shuts his eyes to focus on that. 

_ “I’m in the corner, watching you kiss her -  _

_ And I’m right over here - why can’t you see me…?”  _

But thinking of Geralt sent a sharp burning ache into his chest that nearly stole his breath. Her face comes appears in his mind and he shuts his eyes tighter. Her beauty unparalleled and how her voice dripped with cruel satisfaction when she guessed his name. Like in that moment she saw right through how his heart had fallen from soaring when he opened the door, to crashing into a fucking dumpster fire. 

__

_ “And I’m giving it my all - but I’m not the guy you’re taking home!  _

_ No, no - I keep dancing on my own…”  _

He might not be as thankful to his parents for insisting on the language classes in hindsight. If he never learned maybe he wouldn’t be in this situation - but he was thankful for the years and years of music lessons. And emotional support of a wet sock-puppet. Point is - he could cry but keep a note, and play just about anything with his eyes closed. 

Everybody wins. 

Except for Jaskier. Oh no. Jaskier never wins. 

_ “I just came to say good-bye…”  _

__

He finishes the song to awkward scattered applause but he is here as background music. No one cared what his name was, so it was no surprise. He smiles tightly with a nod and stands to sling his guitar over his shoulder. The keys on a piano were too gentle, to sympathetic, he needed the harsh strings cutting into his fingers as he pulled a song from them. 

He took a breath and lifted his head to the microphone at centre stage when his eyes met with molten amber ones across the crowd. 

No. Nonono _ nonono _ ... Fuck! Please -  _ please god I know we never speak but if you just strike me down right now!  _

But it was Geralt. There was no denying it. He knew those captivating honey-gold eyes and handsome face and silver hair anywhere. But that meant… 

Just to his left she stood. The violet-eyed she-wolf. The goddess of doom. 

A throat clearing had him realise he had been standing there in silence. He turned to see Tissaia’s glare. 

__

_ Keep it together you hopeless dumbass. One song - just one song and you can claim you have diarrhoea and GTFO ASAP. Just hold it together for one song. Think of rent.  _

__

He kept his eyes resolutely down on his fingers and strummed a few cords, wracking his brain for what to play. Something safe. A crowd-pleaser. 

But you know how everybody wins always forever except Jaskier because apparently the gods hate him and when he was born and they were handing out happiness and goodwill they looked at baby Julian and went ‘nah’? 

“Play silver and gold!” came a voice from the crowd. His head snapped up to see it came from a beautiful woman with a broad but kind smile and wild auburn curls. Which would be amazing because A - she knew one of his songs off his YouTube channel, and B - who doesn’t like a request from a beautiful woman? - if it weren’t for the fact that A - she was standing right next to the violet-eyed priestess of destruction, and B - the song was so painfully obviously about Geralt who was riGHT FUCKING THERE! 

_ Think of the rent. Just one song. Think of the rent. Just one song.  _

So he cleared his throat and pulled on every traumatic music recital and thrashing he ever got from his dad where he kept his cool. He focused on the harsh cords under his fingers and tremor of his voice. 

__

_ “When the night is cold and you wish for someone to hold, Could it be me?  _

_ When the day is long and the world seems wrong, Could you let me in - would you let me close?  _

__

_ Eyes of gold, ivory smile  _

_ Darling won’t you let me stay just a while  _

_ Gentle hands, silver hair  _

_ If you’d let me I’ll love you forever  _

_...but life is just not that fair”  _

If he took deeper, rougher breaths between lyrics, no one said anything. If the tremor in his hands disrupted the melody nobody would be able to tell. 

_ “I’ll fight all your demons, I’ll lay my heart bare You’ll never be alone, I’ll always be there.  _

_ If you could you listen - you’d hear me sing  _

_ That I’d love you forever  _

_... but life is just not that fair.”  _

The rest of the song was a blur. The harmony was easy and bright. Hopeful almost. He had sung the song many times since he first wrote it on Geralt’s couch in his oversized hoodie. It was his most popular song by far. 

He had barely sung the final verse when the applause caught him off guard. He muttered a quick thanks and something about using the toilet, almost choking himself as he all but ripped the guitar strap over his head, and made his getaway. 

But completely on trend with his life and the general theme of his adulthood: things didn’t work as he’d hoped. 

He had barely woven through the people around the stage smelling of money and delighting in their privilege before a hand closed around his shoulder. 

And completely on brand for the worst day of his life - it was Geralt. 

“Jaskier, I-” he started but Jaskier has had enough of this day fucking with him. So he ripped his arm away and spared his former best friend a glare before slipping away, using his smaller more lean frame to navigate through, but not missing the same low rough voice that had been echoing in his mind for the past few hours call his name on last time. 

_ Okay, all I need is to call a cab and find a place to hide till it arrives.  _

__

He hurried into the grand hallway leading to the front of the house, only to be cornered again by a determined-looking silver-haired cruel man who came in from one of the many side-doors opening up onto the huge outdoor patio. “Jaskier! Please, just let me-” 

“Oh no,” Jaskier snapped back, mostly at himself, as he spun back around and rushed out. A quick glance around to consider his options - disappear into the crowd, drown myself in the pool, skewer myself on that unicorn ice sculpture’s horn, suffocate myself in that lady’s ample bosom, or hide in the seemingly endless garden. Going with the latter option, only because it was the closest escape route, he dashed off. 

For once he was thankful for being poor and not being able to afford a suit or fancy shoes. His neat all-black sneakers and fitted black jeans looked formal enough paired with the red dress shirt, and more importantly, allowed him the mobility to run from Geralt through the maze of the garden like a tax-evading CEO ran from a court summons. 

“Jaskier! For fucks sa- there you are!” he whipped his head back to see the man, who had since lost his tie and formal jacket, skid over the grass as he rounded the corner. “Stop running!” 

Jaskier bolted in the opposite direction. “Then stop chasing me!” He yelled back as he ignored his unfitness stabbing his ribs. He hopped over a creek and ran into the thick rose garden with its high hedges and walkways. He kept running through the burning of his lungs as he heard Geralt’s voice grow smaller and further. 

He had never been more thankful that Aretuza had so much money they practically threw it on the ground and let it sprout this huge garden maze. Or maybe it’s designed to trap unsuspecting rich young men in a web for them to sacrifice to the dark lord. Who knows with these scary women. 

“Stop right there! Goddammit would you just-” Geralt’s head was poking over a particularly high lattice fence with lush - thorned - roses woven through. 

“Fuck off Geralt!” he shouted back in a tone that was half exhaustion, half fury. The maze split in two in front of him and he blindly picked one direction and ran. Silently he hoped someone would find his corpse before Christmas because he was lost as fuck and would surely die of starvation in the maze. “Fucking asshole didn’t talk for 8 fucking months and  _ NOW  _ he wants to chat. Fuck this bullshit,” he cursed. 

After minutes of dashing madly in any direction, he ended up in a small clearing with a pond. As he heaved air through his whistling lungs and tried to catch his breath, he glared enviously at the ducks floating happily without a care. Bet they never had a crazy 6ft man hunting them down. 

He pulled out his phone. Thank her holiness Lady Gaga, he had signal! He opened up the taxi app and typed in his location and was about to add the extra fee for selecting ‘urgent’ when he heard it. A thundering beat getting louder. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First song Jaskier sings is Callum Scott's cover of 'Dancing on my Own'. The second is my own terrible attempt at writing lyrics.


	3. Chapter 3

_ Thu-thu-thu-thum-thum-thump-thump-thump-THUMP-THUMP-THUM “POOF!”  _

The air was knocked out of his lungs as he was suddenly tackled from the side right over the edge of the pond and into the water. Ducks flew, water splashed, and curses were drowned out until he was just as suddenly yanked back up gasping for air. 

“What the FUCK GERALT!?” 

“You wouldn’t stop!” 

“Did you think that maybe I wanted to be left alone!?” 

“I had to- you would let me-” but Jaskier cut him off with a headbutt that bought him enough time to shove the man off, push through the muddy water as fast as he could and clamber back over the edge of the pond. 

Only to land on his back with a large angry man above him. 

Funny. He had imagined being under Geralt many, many times. This wasn’t what he had in mind though. 

“WOULD YOU JUST FUCKING STOP RUNNING AND LISTEN!” Geralt all but growled down at him. 

“Why should I!?” Jaskier snapped back, straining against the strong hands pinning his arms down. “You had eight months to talk, Geralt! Eight fucking months!” 

“I-...” Geralt deflated a bit at that. “Just… let me explain. Please. If after that you still don’t want to see me, I’ll leave you alone.” 

Jaskier just glared with all the hatred and pain and anger in his being. 

“Please, Jaskier,” he sighed. 

Jaskier briefly considered kneeing the man in the balls but the helpless sigh and look of desperation in Geralt’s voice was… something he had never seen on his face. It looked wrong. And deny it as he may, he still loved Geralt. Fiercely and entirely. 

“Fine. You have five minutes then I never want to see your face again.” Geralt deflated in relief and pulled back to let Jaskier sit up. 

Then… just sat in silence. Staring down at his hands as if he could set them ablaze if he glowered hard enough. 

“Talk Geralt. I’ve had enough of your silence. Talk or walk away.” 

Geralt sighed as if this who situation pained him. “Jaskier… I’m sorry.” 

Jaskier lifted an eyebrow as if to say  _ ‘is that all? _ ’ 

“I never should have hidden the truth. Should have told you from the start. I hurt you and I’m sorry. Please believe me.” 

Another silence followed as Jaskier intensely stared at the man. In all this time and the countless hours they’ve spent together - on good days and bad - he had never seen Geralt look this miserable and defeated. 

“Why?” came his response, his voice small and hoarse. “Why Geralt?” 

“I… When you first barged into my apartment and made the assumption I found it… amusing. I hadn’t expected it, nor did I expect to see you again. So I didn’t see the harm in just… going along with it.” 

Even though he could apparently speak it still seemed like the words were being pulled from Geralt like teeth, but determination pushed him on. Jaskier lowered his eyes which were burning with tears he’d hoped he had all cried out. 

“Then… it was too late to correct it. You seemed so happy to talk and sing thinking it didn’t disturb me. And the longer you stayed, the more I couldn’t tell you the more I… wanted you to stay.” 

Jaskier bit his lip.  _ Don’t read too much into it don’t read too much into it don-  _

__

“I wanted to tell you so many times. I practised the words so often but then you’d come swinging in, proudly signing about an audition you had and singing while fixing us dinner and I just.. Didn’t want to risk losing that.” 

“I would’ve understood…” Jaskier said, just as small but with a tremor in his voice he couldn’t hide. “That’s not a good enough reason.” 

“I know, I know…” Geralt responded, his own voice tight with frustration and something else. “I… Jaskier, I’m not good at… this. At talking. I don’t think I’ve said as much in the past month as I’ve said in the past 5 minutes to you. I’m… hard to be around. I growl and grumble and put people off. They don’t care enough to really get to know me, and I don’t care what they think. But then you came along… Not only did you not mind my silence, but you… enjoyed it. You stayed even on the days I glared and grunted. I never had to explain myself to you, I could just… be.” 

That had Jaskier looking up at the man sitting on the grass in his wet clothes with pleading eyes. 

“I… You often asked what I do for a living. I’m a Witcher,” he ignored the way Jaskier’s eyes grew three sizes and pushed on, not wanting to be distracted now that the words were coming. “I fight demons to distract from my own. No one cares what I may say, just what I do. You’ve seen the ruins of the intercom and the loud music… I hated both the empty silence and disruptions. Roach helps but… You...Your voice and even quiet presence filled it. I had never been so at peace and comfortable around anyone. Ever. There were so many days I even stood in front of your door when I knew you were there, wanting you to come over.” 

Jaskier’s cold shattered heart lurched to life. A warm hopefulness spread in his chest and he unconsciously relaxed his shoulders and lowered his defences. 

“I only have five real friends. Three of whom are family. They all barely tolerate me,” he gave a mirthless chuckle. “But here you were… kind and bright and accepting… loving me as I am.” 

Jaskier’s voice caught in his throat as one big, warm hand reached out to take his cold one. But a face flashed in his mind. Violet eyes and black hair. He ripped his hand back and ignored the wounded look on Geralt’s eyes. 

“I’m no one’s second fiddle, Geralt,” he said with as much iron in his voice as he could muster. “Regardless of what I fee-, what I felt, I can’t compete with her. And I’m not going to.” Weighed down by a sudden weariness he pushed himself up to his feet. “You should go. She’ll wonder where you’ve been.” 

The same warm hand landed on his shoulder as he tried to turn away. “Who are you talking about?” 

Jaskier shot him a look of ‘ _ are you fucking kidding me? _ ’ When Geralt, dumbass supreme, kept staring in confusion he sighed. “Tall, black hair, violet eyes, an aura that says she could watch you die and feel nothing?” 

“Yen?” Geralt respond as if the idea is incredulous. “Why would you think Yennefer and I were together?” 

“Don’t play dumb, Geralt. I’m not saying it doesn’t suit you but I’m done with it. You mean to tell me she just stood there in your apartment while you were dressing and knew my name because you’re ‘just friends’? Please. I’ve seen her. No one could be ‘just friends’ with a woman like that. 

You’re either in love with her or she’s plucked your eyes out to feed them to her crows.” 

“Jask, Yen and I are just friends. We’ve known each other since we were kids, and yeah we messed around for a bit but it ended badly and we’re just friends and have been for years. She’s the one that dragged me here and got tired of waiting in the car for me to finish.” 

Jaskier wasn’t convinced. “Then how did she know my name, hmm? How did your other friend know my song?” His voice was accusatory. 

“Because I talk about you all the time!” Geralt all but yelled back, taking them both by surprise. “I… I’ve told them about you. Often. Told them you’re a musician and they looked you up. Yen as been hounding me to come clean to you since she found out. And Triss is fan of yours.” 

Jaskier had never found Geralt’s silences uncomfortable, but the silence that fell over them then was stifling as he stood stunned. 

“You… talked about me? Why?” he asked slowly, not daring to hope but his battered, romantic heart made a noble effort regardless. 

“Of course I did. Jask I… can’t you see how important you are to me?” slowly, like he was afraid to spook an injured animal, Geralt took a step closer till Jaskier could feel the heat of his body through their wet clothes. “I’m sorry. Terribly. Please believe me. Tell me you see why I couldn’t risk losing you. ...only to hurt you.” 

Cautiously, carefully, Geralt moved closer still, his warm hands settling on Jaskier’s hips. 

“I-” 

“Geralt,” Jask interrupted. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

Jaskier had never welcomed Geralt’s silence more. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's it!
> 
> If you like it [maybe share the good word on Tumblr?](https://clown-of-rivia.tumblr.com/post/618652509063593984/silent-seduction-and-blinding-bliss-rating-teen) I'm also on Twitter as [DarkDova](https://twitter.com/DarkDova) (18+ only)
> 
> I was really torn about what angle to take. In the end it might be that Geralt has selective mutism, his stilted communication skills could be due to PTSD too. If you do happen to write a fic with deaf Geralt please let me know!!


End file.
